


be my valentine?

by thisainthannah



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Aftercare, Crossdressing, DNF, Fluff, Gay, Gentle, Gream - Freeform, Harry Styles - Freeform, Lemon, M/M, Minecraft, Praise, Purple, SUCKER FOR STYLES BIIITCH, Sex, Smut, Smut and Fluff, Valentine's Day, dreamnotfound, george in a dress!!!, lavender - Freeform, mcyt - Freeform, mlm, theyre kinda sus lol, vanilla lowkey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 13:48:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29454807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisainthannah/pseuds/thisainthannah
Summary: two bros, fuckin on valentines day bc theyre kinda sus
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 61





	be my valentine?

**Author's Note:**

> this is smut. youve been warned. 
> 
> praising tho!

This night is so perfect.

He looks so good in that lavender dress, hugging his beautiful curves. So, so pretty. So perfect. 

We’re at this really lovely Valentine’s Day ball. Living in the hills and being famous gets you into these kinds of situations- staring at your beautiful boyfriend in his beautiful bodycon dress that he’s wearing for the first time as you take a sip of expensive white wine and kiss his plump, petal pink lips. He only wore minimal lip gloss tonight, only accentuating his perfect features. Graceful. Natural.

Breathtaking.

“God, babe, you look so beautiful,” I whisper in his ear as we slow dance under the light of a mirrorball, dangling high from the ceiling. The scalene reflections are visible on George’s porcelain skin as we twirl, swaying along to the soothing music that rolls on in the background. The pink lights perfectly accentuate his rosy cheeks and pink lips, those pink lips that are so very kissable. So admirable. 

I adore you.

Our other friends are dancing away into the night as me and George slip away onto the balcony of this mansion. It’s an elaborate home, with so many rooms and balconies and a beautifully landscaped backyard. Just the place you’d expect to attend a Valentine’s Day ball at. 

“Hi,” he says, following up with his perfect, angelic giggle. Oh, how I adore. 

“Hey, beautiful,” I coo, and a warm blush spreads across his perfect face, apparent on his light skin. 

“I love your suit,” he responds quietly, batting his eyelashes, lightly coated in mascara. Too Faced’s “Better than Sex” product- lifts his lashes to the heavens, as he says. 

“I know I look good, but I’ll never compare to you, angel.”

“Clay, just let me adore you.”

“Whatever, Harry.”

George laughs lightly at the reference. He’s a sucker for Styles. 

I can’t help but admire the way his cheekbones shimmer in the moonlight, thanks to the iridescent highlighter that I helped him apply before we made our way to this ball. Though I don’t really wear makeup, I learned how to do it so I could help my beautiful boy put it on perfectly.

Ha, as if anything can make him more perfect than he is already. Goddamn. He’s pristine. 

“I love you so much,” I purr, right in his ear. Get ‘em where it’s the most sensitive, drives them wild. He shudders at the feeling of my warm breath making contact with his neck, and soon my lips making their way to it. 

“Clay, we’re in public,” he says, blushing profusely. “Can’t we wait until we go home?”

“Alright, just for you, dear.”

He takes my hand in his warm, soft one and pulls me back into the ballroom, wrapping his arms around my waist and burying his face in the crook of my neck. He’s too short to get to my shoulder, a petite one he is. 

“Princess,” I praise him as we sway, sway like branches of a willow in the wind. Sway like daisies in a rainstorm. Sway like the wings of birds, committing their mirage to a new home, the home that lies on the other side of the troubled earth. 

“Clay!” he whines. If there’s one thing my baby can’t do, it’s accepting a much-deserved compliment. Telling him he’s beautiful, or smart, or anything. He never knows how to take it because I’m the only one that’s actually called him such things. 

But that’s not important. He’s so beautiful. 

====

The music softens, fading as the night comes to an end. It’s midnight now, and the moon and stars are out, some hidden behind the growing clouds of rain. Mostly clear skies are a common thing here in California. 

“Are you ready to go, baby?” I ask George, and he nods. Neither of us decided that tonight was the night to get drunk. Partly to remember the party, and partly to remember what’s happening after. 

I lead him out to the car, a nice, jet-black one with a lovely plush interior. George and I always take my car on long drives due to the comforting fabric of the seats. 

For more reasons than napping. 

I turn the key of the car, igniting the engine inside, and soon begin driving. Music plays, playing from my cell phone. Music of George’s choosing.

“Earned It” by The Weeknd. If you don’t live under a rock, you know two things: the origin of this song, and the sexual themes it entails.   
He mumbles along lowly to the music. The sound of him reciting the dirty, dirty lyrics alone just transfers my blood from the heart that beats only for him, to the other bodily place of mine that he owns. 

“Your singing is so pretty, baby,” I tell him. He might not be good at accepting compliments, but there’s still nothing but praise here for my baby. 

“Claaay,” he responds in a whiny tone. All the hotter. 

“I’m just telling the truth, honey.”

====

Our drive, while mostly quiet, is just creating tension. Lots and lots of tension. Both metaphorically and physically.

Sexual tension in the air, and physical tension in my pants. He knows what he’s doing. He knows that he’s just messing with me. 

My little boytoy is toying with me. 

The thought of him as my boytoy just brings me back to past nights like these- him in that stupid red slip-on dress. Him in those fishnets. 

Him in nothing. 

Fuck. There goes comfortably-fitting pants for the night. 

George and I walk up to the front steps of our home, me holding his arm, despite him being perfectly capable of walking himself. Well, not really in the heels he’s wearing. Baby hasn’t really gotten used to heels yet, even though he loves them and looks so fucking good in them. 

“Clay? Why’re you staring at me like that?” he asks me, as if he doesn’t know. As if he doesn’t know how hot he looks right now, in his beautiful lavender gown. His shimmering cheeks and twinkling eyes. 

“Because you’re so gorgeous.”

“You say that like you’ve never looked into a mirror,” George flirts, biting his perfect little lip. A tiny bit of the sheer gloss catches onto his tooth. 

These are the words that relieve that tension, doing so by causing me to connect our lips. Here, in our living room, kissing him like it’s the last time I ever will. His lips taste slightly of strawberries, his mouth tasting of them as well. We enjoyed a delicious plate of strawberry cake at the party following our dinner. 

“Finally, I get to kiss my angel,” I say softly as we break apart for air. George nods and smiles as he pulls me in for more. 

By now, we’ve backed into our couch, him laid down under me. The straps of his dress have slid down his shoulders, and his pale chest is slightly exposed. Space for me to leave little marks all over. 

“Cla~ay,” George moans as I suck his neck, leaving faint magenta marks all over. 

“Purple like your dress,” I coo. “My pretty baby matches so well.”

He’s a sucker for praise. I’d never call him a “filthy slut” or a “whore,” because his beauty is of sensitive nature. He’s timid, dainty. Graceful.

And currently, though I’d never say it aloud, looks like a slut right now. Covered in hickeys, makeup smeared, his dress halfway slipped off of his torso. The straps are at his waist, his full modesty dependent upon the fitting of the dress’s bust cups covering his lacy underwear. That shit covers absolutely nothing, it’s pure existence solely for the purpose of vanity. George does a lot of things in the name of vanity. 

“You look so pretty,” I whisper as my hand makes its way inside of George’s dress. He arches his back at the feeling of my touch, his waist pressing into mine above him. I can feel his hard-on through the tight fabric, and I’d be willing to bet that he can feel mine as well. 

“Is my pretty boy hard? Hard for me?” I purr, and he nods. I grind into him, and he squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a gasp of relief, of pleasure. 

“Ah~Clay~” he moans as I grind into him more, and his cheeks redden. Blush be damned, he’s turned into a full tomato. 

“So perfect, Georgie. You’re so beautiful.”

I stop grinding into him, and instead bring my hand down to his lace panties, toying with them before I pull them aside. 

Of course he was wearing merely a thong under that dress. He’s a tease. 

George moans loudly as I wrap a hand around his length, pumping it gently. I don’t like to be too rough with him, because I don’t want to hurt the precious boy under me. 

“Is that okay?” I ask him, and he nods as he leans his head back, his eyes closed. I increase in speed, causing him only to get both harder and happier. 

“You make me feel so go~ah~good,” he moans loudly, with a smile. He’s so precious, even when engaging in whorish actions such as these. Mutual praise has always been a common thread in our sexual engagements. 

“I love making you feel good, baby.”

“But what about you?”

George pulls away and paws at the zipper of my pants. Oh, so we’re doing this now?

“Can I?” he asks.

“Of course, angel. Don’t ever have to ask.”

He smiles before unzipping me, and pulling down my boxers, releasing my hardened cock. His eyes widen at the length, but he still wraps his chilled fingers around me, and slowly places his lips at my head. His tongue traces over my slit, collecting drops of precum that came about. 

“You’re doing so good, honey,” I say as he takes more of my dick in his mouth, swirling his tongue around my head and shaft. He glances up at me through his eyelashes, his eyes slightly lidded, and smirks with me in his mouth. 

My hands find their way into his hair, tugging very, very gently as he takes everything he can fit into my mouth. And he can fit the whole thing- his mouth is like a black hole. I feel his throat tightening around my cock as he chokes on it, his gags sending vibrations, causing me to cum down his pipe. 

“You don’t have to swallow it if you don’t want to,” I tell him as he gulps. He’s drooling, and some of the white substance leaks out of his mouth, and he blushes with a smile.

“Why’re you embarrassed, baby? You did so good.”

I kiss his perfect, puffy lips for a moment, and he moans into the kiss. God, he’s so hot, it’s insane. 

As we’re making out, I discreetly slide his dress down, exposing his skimpy underwear that’s covering absolutely nothing. Honestly, there’s not even a point in keeping the lacy thing on.

“Can I take them off?” I say, tugging at the fabric, and he says “yes, please.” I slide them down his thighs, my hand slightly brushing his dick, causing him to whimper. 

“You remember the safeword, right baby?” I ask him. 

“Yes, it’s ‘gains,’ right?”

“Good boy.”

He giggles as I position a finger on his entrance, using my free hand to gently squeeze his ass. 

“Do you want this, George?”

“Yes, Clay.”

I smile before entering him, adding a second finger to stretch him more. I moistened them with my own cum, surprisingly enough. 

George screams my name as I scissor my fingers inside of him, hitting his prostate multiple times. Oh, just wait until we get to the good stuff. 

“Are you stretched enough?” I ask him, and he nods. He whines at the loss of my fingers leaving from inside of him, but he’s about to be filled with something much bigger. 

I ask him if he’s ready, and he says he is. I flip him over, and he gets on all fours, raising his perfect ass in the air. The bust portion of his dress has slid down to his knees, completely exposing him from the thighs up. 

Holding onto his waist for security, I slide myself inside of him, and he immediately arches his back, pushing me further inside of him. I thrust gently, but due to the depth of me inside of him, it’s enough to hit a bundle of nerves. He screams my name loud enough for our buddies in Canada to hear. 

I bet the neighbors are having fun. 

“Fuck, Georgie, you feel so fucking good,” I groan as his walls tighten around my cock, and he moans at the feeling of it hitting his sweet spot. My hands grip him tightly enough to leave marks, so I release my hold a little bit. I don’t want to hurt him, after all. 

I thrust for a bit before releasing inside of him, and pulling out causes him to begin dripping. I quickly wipe him up with those lace panties, and I help him get to the bathtub to clean up. He’s a mess, dripping with cum from both his mouth and his ass. 

“You’re so perfect, baby,” I whisper in his ear as I lower him into the bathtub.


End file.
